Love Underneath
by Eva Hazuki
Summary: Rising stars Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland have declared the other as his number one rival. However, are they declaring this rivalry for personal growth...or is there something else underneath? Celebrity!AU, human names used! Main ship USUK, but there will be suggestions of US/others or UK/others!
1. First Impressions Last, Jones

**EDIT: Ohhhhhh~ I has a toooomblah~ (my retarded way of saying Tumblr) for fics and beta and whatnots~ Drop by and say hi if you want to~ **

**evahazuki (dot) tumblr (dot) com [[ Replace the '(dot)' with actual periods~ ]]**

**Okay! So...**

**The idea just...smacked me. And...I had to write.**

**This is my first ever series-multichapter (hopefully) fanfic! I'll update as frequent as classes and school would permit. **

**This will most likely be a multi-pairing fic. USUK (in no order. Yes, they will be switching!) will be the main pairing. **

**Rated M for language and future content! Boy x Boy. Don't like? Then please don't read. It's that simple!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Hetalia. Hime-papa owns it, in all of its wonderful historic glory. If I did own it... **

**Anywho. Enjoy! R&R not mandatory but it would be greatly appreciated!**

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_Fame. Fortune. Publicity. They've got everything that anyone ever wants. _

_They've got the looks, the talents, the swag, the words. Any girl, or guy, would fall for them..._

"_Rising up the ladder of fame and fortune, multi-talent celebrities Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland make their way to the top of stardom!"_ the headlines read. Arthur simply sighed, and placed the magazine down gently. Multi-talent...right. He was simply following his passions, and companies were simply exploiting them for profits and devoted followers. That was all.

Standing up, the Briton went to pour himself a cup of tea. He hated this fame. Hated the fact that his talents were being publicized, hated receiving criticisms for it, hated being advertised like a little doll for the corporates to manipulate. He hated it all.

Yet, if he had not done this, he would not have felt the satisfaction of performing for a live audience. He would not have known what it was like to please large crowds, receiving their love and admiration as he stood on stage, looking out at them all.

Perhaps underneath his hate of publicity, he had a love for it. It had given him a purpose to perform, a purpose to try his best to outrank the others. It had given him a good reason to try and defeat his American opponent in terms of popularity...

* * *

Their first encounter had not gone well.

Arthur was standing in the studio with his manager, Feliks Lukasiewicz, who was giving the Briton a rundown of his schedule for the week.

"So, like, you are going to try to work with this band, since they, like, seem to fit your style..." Feliks started, pointing to the 'BTT' letters written in the little notebook. Arthur nodded; he knew the band, and he loved the music they play. The Polish man continued his run down the scheduled events.

"So, like, for these two days, you and the band are going to, like, get to know each other. After that, you'll have, like, a little talk show, and then-" Feliks was interrupted when Arthur was suddenly flying his way. The Polish manager caught his star, who stood up with mumbles of thanks as he dusted himself off, and they looked up to see a flash of blonde disappearing off someplace, before it came rushing back the other way moments later.

"Alfred! Like, what's your deal, man? What's the rush?" Feliks asked, hands on hip with a very annoyed pout. Said blonde stopped in the midst of his dash, and looked to the Polish manager, doughnut in mouth and a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"Dude, no time to talk. Toris is, like, pissed that I came late today, and I am not gonna make him madder. It took all of my adorable-ness to beg him to get a doughnut break." Alfred whined, after removing the pastry from his mouth. The American then took notice of Arthur, who was still dusting himself off, before he caught Alfred's gaze. He was quite annoyed with Alfred, but tried not to show it on his face.

"Well, hello there. My name is Arthur Kirkland. A pleasure to-"

"Haha! Dude! Your eyebrows are so big!" Alfred declared, a goofy expression accompanying the comment.

A twitch was felt, but hostility was pulled back on its leash by courtesy. Clearing his throat, Arthur simply attempted to converse with the other again. "Anyway, as I was saying just now. It's a pleasure to m-"

"Dude! Is that a British accent? Haha! Totally awesome! Do you, like, have crooked yellow teeth and drink tea and say 'long live the Queen!', or 'jolly good show' and shit?" Alfred asked, placing horrific emphasis on the quotes with a terribly butchered cockney accent that somehow strayed and became Australian.

Sod the 'three strikes you're out' rule, this American just bastardized his country and all that it stands for. All while butchering the Queen's language, no less. Crossing his arms, he puffed his chest up with authority, as well as attempting to make himself more intimidating despite the slight height discrepancy. He glared right into those sky blue eyes, while his own emerald orbs were oozing with vitriol.

"Now, look here, you little prick. I'm sure that, by terms of age, I'm superior to you, so don't you dare address me with such a friendly tone. I am, by no means, your friend, nor do I exactly have any plans to be, with your mouth spewing the utmost terrible insults about my home country and our people. I'm not exactly sure what junk you've been putting into that puny little brain of yours, but I assure you that the nonsense you've been spouting just now has no sense of accuracy for the English people." he retorted, voice absolutely vitriolic to match his glare. It wasn't as though the phrases are never used, but they were only for certain occasions. As for the deformed teeth, that was only for a few individuals. It does not represent the English as a whole.

Of course, he could have continued to rant, but Feliks had to go and pull him back from the American. "Dude, Arthur! Like, calm down! Alfred's, like...a little air head. Leave him alone. C'mon, Arthur! We have to, like, get back to your schedule!" Feliks reasoned. Though he looked thin, Feliks had a considerable amount of strength. Out of respect for his manager, he backed down, but not without a warming.

"Watch it, American." he hissed, narrowing his eyes before returning to the discussion of his schedule with Feliks. Alfred stood there, dumbfounded as they walked away.

"The fuck is with him...Whatever. SHIT! I gotta get back to Toris!" Alfred cursed, before placing the doughnut into his mouth before running off.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter! This was just an intro for the story! The next will be longer, I promise!**

**I also think I need a beta...if anyone'd like to help, please PM me! :3 ((I may be a beta, but I don't think I can beta for myself...I'm derp, I know...))**

**...The use of British slang, its culture, and the likes...if I offend anyone, please do tell me! DX I really do not mean to offend ANYONE in ANY way! Honest! DX I respect people's cultures, so if you know of it and would like to help me, oh goodness please do!**


	2. Spotlight! BTT Enters the Scene!

**A/N:** **So...this took me FOREVER to write...Aha...ahaha...Iamsorryorz...**

**Anywho...Yay, next part...? :D**

**I will attempt to update once every two weeks (though it could change depending on if I remember to do schoolwork or not...and band. Orz...)**

**I apologize if this is much too short for your preference. It was supposed to be another introductory sort of chapter...I promise the next chapter will be longer!**

**Just a heads-up: There will be NO immediate USUK. FrUK _will_ be present within this story. Don't worry, it's only for development (Why must there be ship wars...)**

**All translations are done by Google Translator. If you know the actual translation, please do tell me!**

**This story is UN-BETA'd! I know I may be a beta, but when it comes to my own work...I'm not very efficient...ehehe...**

**Oh, before I forget...**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ANYTHING but the plot. Just the plot. Hetalia and the characters are all properties of Hime-papa. Kthx.**

**Please enjoy! Rating and reviewing would be most appreciated, as I would know that someone is be interested in my story, and that is enough for me to be motivated! It is not mandatory though~ **

**Constructive criticism most welcomed! Flames, however, are not.**

**Well then, I've ranted long enough. Enjoy!**

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**Key:**

"Blahblahblah" = TV/Phone  
**  
**

_Blahblahblah_ = Thoughts/Something in another language

* * *

**Spotlight! BTT Enters the Scene!**

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Simply recalling the first encounter with the American a few days prior was ruining Arthur's mood. The English star sat on the sofa in his living room, as instructed via cellular communications by Feliks, as he sipped a cup of Earl Grey. Nothing to calm the nerves better than a hot cup of tea.

Sipping his tea, Arthur heaved a sigh weighted with boredom. Realizing that he had nothing better to do as he waited for his manager, he reached over for the remote that sat on the glass table to his side. With a quick motion, he turned on the telly in his living room, a sixty-inch plasma TV, and adjusted the volume before commencing his channel-surfing.

As the cooking show, pet show, boutique channel, cartoons, and movies passed by, Arthur was starting to think that perhaps the telly was not such a good idea after all. That was, until his eyes caught a familiar head of blonde hair, with a familiar cowlick, flash by on a channel. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, and he swiftly returned to said channel, which happened to be a talk show. The sinking feeling was confirmed when he saw that the guest of the show was indeed Alfred F. Jones. The same American who **ridiculed** the very ways of life of the English folks, the same one who Arthur had declared to be his rival in show business; the same disrespectful, horrid, crude, stupid American was now on one of the hottest talk shows in the area.

Though Arthur had a nagging feeling that told him he should not watch the interview, curiosity had won him over, and he was hoping that nothing of him would die because of curiosity's victory. He placed the remote onto the cushion next to him, and stared at the telly.

"So, Alfred, how does it feel to be one of the most wanted men in the nation?" The emcee had inquired, a playful, teasing smile spreading as he turned to Alfred. The American laughed, which Arthur deemed to be the most annoying sound of joy to resound within his ear, and returned a bright smile to his interviewer.

"Well, it's really cool and all. But ya know, I think I just like to make people happy. If me modeling and acting and stuff would help people smile and be happy, then I'll keep doing it, because I'm a hero!" Alfred finished, throwing his fist quite excitedly into the air.

Meanwhile, Arthur sat there with crossed legs and an unsatisfactory expression. _What a load of bollocks..._thought the Englishman as he closed his eyes and took yet another sip of his tea. He slowly lifted his eyelids, checking the time on the wall before returning his attention to the interview.

"So then, Alfred. If you have a hero, then certainly there is a 'supervillain' that you need to defeat, right?" The emcee asked, going along with the celebrity's childish thought. Alfred pondered this question for a bit, and Arthur went to take a sip of his tea.

"Yeah! There's definitely one! He's a stuck up British dude who can't take a joke! Party pooper, much. I won't tell ya his name, though, because a hero doesn't land a low blow!"

This comment made Arthur choke on his drink, almost doing a spit-take. As he was attempting to recover himself, laughter roared from the telly, and Arthur turned off the device before he had a murderous intent towards inanimate objects.

"That bloody wanker..." Arthur grumbled, cleaning up his mess. Just as he was heading to the kitchen for a new pot of tea, he heard his phone go off. The Brit placed the teapot down delicately, and reached into his jeans pocket to answer his phone with a curt "hello?".

"Arthur! Like - be there - few minutes! I've got - band - me, so - to, like, - tea -!" his manager had shouted before the line had cut off. It seemed that they were driving through a tunnel, as the static was quite unbearable. Barely able to grasp what his manager had said, Arthur replaced the phone into his pocket, and quickly set to make another pot of tea.

He attempted to control his excitement as the leaves sat in the teapot, soaking in the hot water. He, Arthur Kirkland, would finally be able to meet the band that inspired him to enter show business in the first place; despite a calm demeanor, Arthur was quite ecstatic inside.

As he was setting up the living room, a knock resounded through the house. Quickly adding the finishing touches to his preparations, Arthur walked briskly over to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

The first to come in was Gilbert, the percussionist and backing vocals of the band. Gilbert had interesting features; his hair was as white as the snow, and his eyes were a bright ruby red. The albino looked to Arthur and gave him a wide grin, ruffling the Brit's already messy hair. "Heya, squirt." he greeted before heading for the seats.

Next came Antonio, the lead guitarist and backing vocals. Antonio was quite tanned, with messy brown hair, and had green eyes that held a tinge of olive. He smiled brightly at Arthur, slightly smoothing the other's hair down before heading to sit near Gilbert.

The third to enter was Francis, the playboy, lead bass and vocals of the band. He had long blonde hair, a small tuff of beard on the chin, and eyes that were like the blue from the depths of the ocean. The man blew Arthur an air-kiss, which sent chills up Arthur's spine. As attractive as he might be, Francis was known for his short-term relationships; it was best not to get involved.

Their manager, Elizabeta Héderváry, strolled in after Francis, giving Arthur a nod of the head and a smile before turning to talk to Feliks, who was beside her. She had lovely brown hair, her locks cascading down past her shoulders, and her eyes shone like a pair of peridot gems. Snapping out of his little observation, Arthur closed the door and headed for the living room.

Feliks and Elizabeta were on one sofa while the band claimed the other sofa, and Arthur was pouring tea for everyone. He handed each a cup of the herbal drink, and sat in an armchair nearby.

After speaking with Feliks, Elizabeta turned to Arthur and smiled. "Hello, Arthur. My name is Elizabeta, but you can call me Eli or Lizzy. As you might have been informed, I am BTT's manager." she said. She motioned to the boys on the couch, who were fooling around, and cleared her throat to catch their attention. They immediately quieted down, and their manager smiled.

"Now, why don't you introduce yourself to Arthur here. For the next few days, you all will have to be working with each other, so why not get to know each other better?" Elizabeta suggested. A bit of murmuring occurred amongst the trio, and they all turned to Arthur, who was quite nervous. Gilbert decided to take the initiative, and stood up.

"Hey squirt. Name's Gilbert Weilschmidt, and I'm the drummer and backup voice. Ya can call me Gil or Awesome or Your Highness." Gilbert said, extending a hand a handshake; Arthur complied promptly.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Gilbert. My name is Arthur Kirkland." Arthur said, giving the albino a courteous smile.

"Nice ta meetcha, Eyebrows." Gilbert said, a smirk prominent on his features. Arthur could feel a vein urging to pop somewhere, but he simply cleared his throat and smiled. As Gilbert sat down again, Antonio was next in line. The guitarist's hands, calloused from practice, both clasped onto Arthur's as he shook their hands quite...energetically.

"_Hola_! My name is Antonio Carriedo Hernandez, and I am the lead guitarist and backup voice! Nice to meet you, _Arturo_. You can call me Toni if you want, _amigo_." Antonio said, beaming an especially bright smile. Arthur regained his composure for a moment, and smiled. "It is nice to meet you as well, Antonio." Arthur replied as the other went back to his seat.

Francis was the last of the trio to come and greet Arthur. The English star extended his hand for a friendly handshake. What he did not expect was for the other man to take his hand, and place a kiss on the back of it.

"_Bonjour,_ _mon cher_. I am the lead vocals and bass player. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, but you may call me _mon amour _if your heart so desires..." he said, deep blue eyes half-hidden behind his eyelids and lush eyelashes.

Arthur could feel his face burn up and a chill running up and down his spine. Attempting to drag himself back to reality, the Briton attempted to reply coherently. "I-It's a pleasure to meet you too." he said, trying to sound firm.

"A **pleasure**, indeed." Francis drawled, emphasizing that one word before returning to his seat. Arthur was a bit dumbfounded, but he snapped out of his semi-trance when Elizabeta came to up to him.

"Hello, Arthur. I am Elizabeta Héderváry, the manager of the most idiotic trio you'll ever stumble upon." she said with a smile. Arthur could not help but chuckle at her re-introduction, despite the jumbled complaints behind her. "It is my honor, Miss Héderváry." Arthur replied, attempting to change his greetings.

Elizabeta smiled, but as the trio (plus Feliks) was talking, she leaned closer and whispered something to Arthur.

"You might want to watch your back, Arthur. The playboy's got his eyes on you."

Arthur was extremely confused, but before he could ask anything else, Elizabeta had returned to the group. What could that mean...Shrugging it off, Arthur went to join their conversation for their future collaboration.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Hola = _Hello

_Arturo =_ Arthur

_Amigo = _buddy, friend

_Bonjour, mon cher = _Hello, my dear

_mon amour = _my love


	3. Enchanted By the Enemy

**A/N: Ohh my goodness-**

**I am so sorry for the late-**

**Ahaha-**

**Omf-**

**Sorry...really-**

**Erg...**

**Thank you reviewers and followers! 3**

**I made a two-shot for you all as apologies-!**

**Check it out, the link is on my tumblr, found at the end of this page~!**

**It's halfway done! So please go check it out, yea?**

**Also, this chapter has quite a few perspective change, indicated by page breaks!**

**Also, my thirtieth reviewer (if I ever get that far) will receive a special one-shot just for them! Plot and pairing of choice! (I object to nothing! And even if I did, I'll write it anyway! I have to know the fandom though ;D)**

**So yea...Review please? Maybe-?**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or characters here. I own the plot and nothing else!**

* * *

**Key:**

"Blahblahblah" = TV/Phone  
**  
**

_Blahblahblah_ = Thoughts/Something in another language

* * *

**Enchanted By the Enemy**

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Realizing soon enough that sitting around on his tush was not only making his mood worse as he replayed the recollection, but it also proved to Alfred how fast his manager is able to detect the celebrity lazing around.

The Lithuanian man practically stormed into the room, his face overwritten with exhaustion and stress. His brown hair was drawn into a ponytail of sorts, but his hair was so askew that it seemed his hairstyle was irrelevant. Sweat glistened as they dripped down his face, and his usually well-kept suit was quite crumpled.

"A-Alfred! Honestly, I've been looking everywhere for you!" Toris gasped, his Lithuanian-accented voice tangled with exhaustion. The man took his time to catch his breath, hands pressed against his knee as he slumped a bit, before regaining his posture and walking over.

"Alfred, the set was prepared twenty minutes ago! They are really booked today, and we can't afford to waste time! Come on!" Toris nudged, going over to pull Alfred up. The sunny blonde let loose a loud exhale, and stood up quite abruptly.

"Duuude. Just chill, Toris. They're not gonna leave America's brightest star just 'cause of some small delay." Alfred said, waving his manager off and dismissing the man's worries so casually. Toris pursed his lips into a thin line before he held onto the taller American's shoulder.

"Alfred. They are Hollywood's top photography duo. They will not hesistate to leave 'America's brightest star' in order to make their next appointment." Toris said sternly. At this, Alfred only frowned. With another exasperated sound, the blonde began to head out.

"Fine, fine! I get it! I'm not as big a celebrity as I thought, big whoop. I'll be the best one day, cause I'm the hero!" Alfred said, turning around and winking to his manager. The Lithuanian shook his head, mumbling one thing or another about Alfred misinterpreting his words before he ushered the tall male out of the room.

Tiberland Photography Inc. had been running around, fixing the lighting fixtures or adjusting the details of the set as they awaited the American star. Tino tapped impatiently on his camera, already set on the tripod and positioned for the shoot. He checked his watch, and fiddled with the second camera that hung around his neck.

"Mr. Jones is very late...We've to go soon for Mr. Kirkland's shoot as well, and we can't afford to be late at all..." he mumbled to his partner, who simply nodded, and checked for any other adjustments that the new interns could have messed up.

Alfred burst onto the scene, jogging over to Tino and giving the Finnish photographer a pat on the back. "Sorry bout that! I forgot bout the time and-"

"Nevermind your excuses, Mr. Jones. We're strict on time! Chop chop, let Berwald get you into position for the shoot!" Tino snapped, running back to his camera as Berwald led Alfred to the set and instructed the man on how to pose; standing tall, chest puffed with pride, arms bent and hands behind his head, legs slightly apart and head slightly tilted, and face graced with a strong half-lid and confident smirk.

And with that, the flashes went off, multiple explosions of lights bombarding one's vision before it stopped.

"Alright, next pose. Outfit change afterwards. Come come, let us hurry!" Tino instructed. Interns, model, and assistant ran about the set as Alfred got into his second pose.

The photoshoot went by, two hours flying by as they finished up. The interns, under the instructions of Berwald, started setting up for a different set. Alfred tilted his head, a bit confused.

"Oh, do I get a free shoot or something?" he teased, nudging the photographer teasingly. Tino simply shook his head, and told Alfred with a bright smile.

"No, this is for Arthur Kirkland. His shoot is in an hour."

Alfred's smile fell.

* * *

The meeting with the band had ended smoothly...more or less. It would have, had Francis not try so hard to invite Arthur to bed with him. Needless to say, Arthur had refused the offer firmly many times,and Elizabeta had already asked the Frenchman to calm down. Not heeding her words not Arthur's threats, Francis went home that day with two lumps on his head.

Arthur grumbled, plopping onto his couch once they were gone. He still had respect for Antonio and Gilbert, but he was starting to second-guess Francis. With a sigh, the English star took a deep breather. It was short-lived, however, as Feliks grabbed his arm and yanked him up.

"Let's go! Your photoshoot is coming up, and you need time to look fabulous!" Feliks said, dragging the semi-indifferent Englishman out of the door. It was at times like these that Arthur had wished he was not famous.

* * *

Alfred was not pleased. They'd rather take more pictures of a grumpy British dude than an awesome stud like Alfred? Lame.

Alfred sat at the snack table, clearly displeased with the fact that they treat this British dude so differently.

And speak of the devil, said British dude walked in through the door, heading immediately for the living room to change. Alfred simply scoffed, and continued to eat the various snacks that were laid across the table. It seems that the other had not noticed him yet.

Good. Let's see how much worse this guy will be compared to a hunk like Alfred.

When Arthur had returned again, however, Alfred almost dropped the doughnut in his hand. The Englishman was dressed in a sharp suit that hugged his sides just right, yet at the same time it gave him the edge of intimidation. A fedora sat upon his head, hiding much of his hair and shadowing a bit of those atrocious caterpillar eyebrows.

He looked breathtaking..

_Snap out of it Jones!_He reprimanded himself mentally, shaking the thoughts out of his head. It could be like the movies, where they look cool for a minute and trip over a cable or something.

That never happened.

Arthur walked over to the set with grace, sitting down as Berwald did the finishing touches of his makeup and adjustment of the equipments. Once the shoot started, Alfred had not removed his eyes the entire time.

Arthur was a veteran, and he was not subtle about it. Each pose brimmed with confidence and elegance, those sharp eyes contrasting the soft features of his face. Each suit he modeled for complimented something or another, whether it was his eyes or his pale skin.

Toris stood by, watching Alfred with interest before clearing his throat.

"That's Arthur Kirkland. He seems well-seasoned, does he not?" Toris asked, looking to Alfred and arching a brow. The American, however, was too enraptured in the photoshoot to really care about what his manager had said just now.

When it seemed as though Arthur looked his way, Alfred jumped a bit, and quickly turned his gaze elsewhere.

Shit...no, he was definitely not idolizing the bastard...

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**A/N: Once again, I am so sorry for how short this orz.**

**Two shot found at**

**evahazuki . tumblr . com**

**remove spaces yea? ;D**

**Fun fact: Tiberland = Tino + Berwald + Kirkland (Peter)**

**Cute, yea?**

**Haha-**

**sorry**

**/crawls back into corner**


	4. What Is This Feeling?

**A/N: Once more placing disclaimers that I own nothing of Hetalia.**

**I only own the plot, and nothing else.**

**I am so so so so sorry for being so late and inconsistent- *SOB***

**Thank you so much for the follows and reviews! Here's the next chapter! I'm also working on that second half on the one-shot, found on my tumblr, so look forward to that too!**

**Welp, enjoy!**

* * *

**What Is This Feeling?**

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Arthur's photoshoot lasted just a bit over two hours. The entire time, Alfred was watching, occasionally looking away or going to grab a snack. He did not want the Briton to see him at all. That would be too embarrassing.

He definitely was not idolizing Arthur. No, he was just criticizing just how shabby the older model was compared to himself. That old guy wasn't anything good-looking, nope.

Okay, so maybe Alfred thought he looked pretty decent with those suits and that slicked back hair. He thought those serious faces and those poses for the camera were pretty hot but-

No, he isn't idolizing the stuck-up! With a frustrated grunt, Alfred stormed off, huffing as he went, and leaving some very confused people in his wake. He refused to accept the other at anywhere near his level!

* * *

Arthur had not noticed a certain American watching his photoshoot. Most of the time, his thoughts drifted off elsewhere, mostly to home and how he looked forward to getting some decent sleep for once.

"Alright, that's a wrap. Good job, everyone!" Tino called, and the crew clapped. A few came by and gave Arthur a pat on the back as they went to clean up, and Arthur would reply with a curt thank you and a professional smile, though he did not understand why some of the female crew members would run off giggling with their heads bowed, a few even bumping into things as they ran.

Well, that certainly was odd.

He stood up from the chair, stretching out his arms and legs. Sitting and laying down in various odd positions for the photoshoot really took a toll on his limbs. They were quite numb from being pressed on often, and it took awhile before the model could properly walk without an odd limp.

As he made his way over to the snacks table,he heard a few girls gossiping nearby.

"Oh goodness, did you meet that heartthrob Alfred yet?" one whispered, though not too discretely.

"Oh, yeees! Girl, he is so fine! " came the reply of her friend, but was even less discrete than the first girl.

"His arms and abs are so chiseled, and his skin has such a nice tan.."

"Oh, honey, his baby face and those big blue eyes...Oh, they're gorgeous!"

As they continued to squeal and fawn over someone not present, Arthur just shook his head, and sighed with silence, grabbing a quick cup of warm tea before heading off of the set. Honestly, he needed to go home, and he was sure Feliks would agree to let him leave since he had finished the photoshoot.

That was not the case.

"Arthur! You still have, like, the interview with the BTT Band! You can't just scuttle off as you please!" The resounding, quite high-pitched voice of the Polish manager rang throughout the set, and it set Arthur off. Just a bit, though.

The Englishman groaned internally, but sighed and turned to his manager in reality. "It had slipped my mind. Thank you for reminding me." Arthur thanked his manager curtly. Of course, his smile was one thing, but those emerald eyes hidden behind closed lids said another.

The two set off for the TV broadcasting station about halfway through the city. Arthur secretly dreaded meeting with the band, mostly because a certain Frenchman did not know to keep his hands to himself. Arthur had been politely declining, but anything past his drawn line, and he could not promise to leave that smug face unscathed.

The band members were already seated in the interview room, joking around with the host before they were set to air in twenty minutes. Antonio was the first to acknowledge Arthur's presence, and he waved the English star and his manager over.

"Arturo! Over here!" he called out. This drew the attention of the host, as well as the other two members of the band. Elizabeta was speaking on the phone a bit off of the set, and Gilbert and Francis were fooling about again.

"Good afternoon, Mister Kirkland! Glad to have a star like you on the show today!" Edward greeted, extending a hand to Arthur. Said "star" took the hand into a firm handshake, and flashed his professional smile.

"It is an honour to be on the show, Mr. Falkner." Arthur greeted. The host chuckled, and Feliks headed over to where Elizabeta stood. Arthur sat himself on a single couch, faced opposite of the Frenchman, who sent him a flying kiss. Arthur just looked away without the slightest care for such a gesture.

"So cruel,_ mon lapin.._" Francis muttered.

Many greetings and pointless conversations later, the bell for going on air rang, and everyone scurried to position.

* * *

Alfred decided to relax at home, finally getting a break after a long and tiring day. He had harassed Toris for a break, and was finally given one. After a nice refreshing hot shower, Alfred made himself a cup of coffee, and turned the TV on. He flicked about, surfing the channels without a care, flicked past the** 'Celebrities NOW!'** show, and almost choked when the sight of furry yellow caterpillars flicked onto the screen. Once he flicked back, he saw that his eyes had not deceived him; Arthur Kirkland was on the screen.

"And today, with great honour, we have the multi-talented Arthur Kirkland with us, along with the hot and amazing BTT band!" Edward announced, gesturing over to the four who sat on the couch. Arthur sat on the single, and the band members shared the longer piece of furniture.

"So, Arthur, will you please tell us the wonderful project that you will be doing?" Edward asked, folding his hands and looking like an excited little child. Arthur chuckled, and he nodded, clearing his throat.

"Ah, yes. As you may or may not know, I will be entering a collaboration with the BTT band as a guest guitarist and vocalist. We will be releasing an album together, so please do keep an eye out for it." Arthur replied, giving the camera (and studio crowd) his professional smile. The crowd roared and cheered, and the the four waved at the crowd of admirers.

_Feh. Just a plain ol' album release. What's so cool 'bout 'em anyway..._ Alfred moped to himself, sipping the coffee in a disgruntled matter.

"Well, that certainly is interesting! Now, let's see how the band members feel about this collaboration. Gilbert! What are your thoughts?" Edward inquired. The camera panned quickly over to the albino, whose laugh sounded as though he was snickering.

"Well, I've been told that Squirt here is a pretty good rocker. We'll see how that goes, _ja_?" he stated. Antonio spoke next, since he sat next to Gilbert.

"_Si_! I have heard that Arturo was quite..how you say, a beast, with a guitar. I look forward to working with him." Antonio spoke, giving the other a nod. Francis was next, and somehow, Arthur dreaded this. However, it seemed even the Frenchmen knew his limits.

"Ah, yes, this will be the first time we have done a collaboration such as this, and I look forward to it." The crowd cheered, and Alfred continued to sulk on the couch, mumbling about how this album wasn't gonna be all that cool.

"Well then, why not give us a preview of your collaboration? Surely everyone would want to hear it!" Edward asked, turning to the audience. He was answered with roars, cheers, and whistles. The four men looked to each other, and nodded before going to the other half of the set. There laid a drumset, a bass, and two guitars. The four men stood up, and headed over to the set. They took their respective position, and once the light dimmed, the song started.

At first, it was only a bass and drums intro, then a single guitar chimed in. Once the song really kicked up, the second guitar (Arthur) joined in. Soon, vocals came, and Alfred was stunned.

Arthur's voice, calm but sharp when speaking, was almost complete changed when he sang. His voice was much stronger, almost like the roar of the lion. It was...fearful, and yet at the same time, extremely captivating.

The solos came on soon, and when it finally reached Arthur, Alfred's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. The uptight, butthurt British guy was shredding on the guitar. He sat in stunned silence, and when the crowds roared and the emcee was complimenting the band, Alfred only stared at the screen in disbelief.

No way. There was just no way...

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**A/N: So? Remarks? Comments? Constructive Criticism? Obvious typos that show that I was typing this at three in the morning? Please give me a bit of feedback, so I can improve the story! Thank you again for all your support!**


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